


One Quarter-Mile At A Time

by SherlockWolf



Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst and Tragedy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood, Break ups and make ups, Car Chases, F/F, F/M, First Kiss, Found Family, Gen, Getting Back Together, Getting Together, Hollywood Typical PG13 Violence, Inspired by The Fast and the Furious, Love Confessions, M/M, Motorcycles, Organization XIII (Kingdom Hearts), Slow Burn, Trans Male Character, Vigilantism, just the first one not the whole series, sadly no card games, tattoo artist axel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:22:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25879612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SherlockWolf/pseuds/SherlockWolf
Summary: Roxas is just a regular grad student, minding his own business, suffering through courses, when an excessively hot redhead plopps down at his lunch table...okay, said redhead *was* invited. Thanks for nothing, Sora.Axel hassles Roxas into becoming friends, and now they're inseparable. So much so, that everyone thinks they're dating. Are they? Not according to Roxas. He doesn't date. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt, thank you, next. The other thing that's holding Roxas back? Axel's a part of a mob that might kill them both for having a relationship outside said mob.Good thing Roxas has *a lot* of friends. And getaway cars.*Teaser chapter for eventual story*
Relationships: Axel/Roxas (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	One Quarter-Mile At A Time

**Author's Note:**

> This is a teaser chapter for a much longer fic I'm in the process of writing. My original novel is going to have organized crime, so I figured I might as well practice with characters I love. On that note I know nothing of IRL car gangs/squads, only stuff from Hollywood/N4S, so please don't read anything in here as realistic! 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy, and let me know if there's any grammar/spelling errors!  
> <3 sherlockwolf

A sound from his kitchen shook Roxas from the movie. The sound didn’t repeat immediately, and for a few moments he was left wondering if he’d imagined it. But then it came again—the soft _kashunk_ of the fridge door, followed by rustling.

Adrenaline fired off, and as he grabbed the bat tucked under the lip of his couch Roxas couldn’t help but wonder how the hell he’d missed the sound of the front door opening. There was only one way into his tiny, second-floor apartment after all—the escape ladder folded—and the movie hadn’t been _that_ good.

Roxas crept through the shadows of his living room to the kitchen doorway, socked feet aiding his advance. Whoever was in his kitchen was far more brazen, ripping open what sounded like a yogurt container with grandeur. Roxas peeked around the edge, bat raised, and—

“Axel?”

The yogurt container fell to the floor.

“Shit. Wrong house.” Came the tired, sluggish response.

Roxas dropped the bat and rushed to the man frozen by the fridge like a deer in headlights. He’d deal with spilt yogurt later. Axel was beyond worse for wear. His trademark, short-sleeved hoodie and band tee-shirt were torn and stained with something darker than the fabrics themselves—a milestone, considering the black shades—and any showing skin had smears of blood accompanying fresh cuts and bruises. One eye looked like it was trying to stay open against all odds. The hair Axel took such pride in was a half-pulled out braid, knotted, and far less tamed than he’d ever consensually let it be.

“What _happened_?” Roxas asked, pulling out a chair at the card table he used as a dining table and unceremoniously pushing Axel down into it. With Axel contained, Roxas flew to the freezer and dug out an ice pack, which he then pressed against Axel’s bruised and bloodied face.

“Stop fussin’.” Axel sighed, pushing Roxas’ hand away so he could hold up the bag himself.

Except, that hand had bloodied knuckles. Roxas ignored Axel and hurried to his bathroom, where he retrieved his box of band-aids, a few wet cloths, and the tube of Neosporin his mom ingrained in him to always have around from his rough-and-tumble childhood. He returned to find Axel pressing his forehead to the tabletop, ice still pressed to the side of his face.

Roxas dumped his supplies on the table, grabbed a mixing bowl from his cabinets and filled it with water, then pulled up the other chair so he could treat Axel’s hands then clean up whatever other wounds Axel was hiding from him.

“Tell me.” He ordered.

Axel hissed at the Neosporin but said nothing. At least he didn’t continue protesting being cared for. Once the knuckles were cleaned Roxas set down his aid materials and tried to pick up Axel’s head so he could clean the wounds there. It took a few tries, some harsh words, and more pushing than he would’ve liked but finally Axel obliged. He kept his eyes firmly shut. Roxas held his chin with one hand and cleaned with the other so his head wouldn’t wobble around.

“Concussion?” Roxas asked, knowing the signs well from adventures with his brother and hoping it wasn’t the case.

Always to the shock of the adults, Ventus was the one who ended up getting hurt more than Roxas. Hence Roxas’ stellar first aid care. Well, _he_ thought it was stellar. Officially trained nurses and doctors might find it a bit…street-cred. But Axel had a thing about not going to hospitals.

Axel grunted noncommittally. He wasn’t rushing off to throw up, but the light was definitely bugging him. Roxas decided he’d need to keep a close watch in case shit went downhill.

When he finished clearing off the blood he bandaged what he could. Forehead, yes, lips, not so much. He let Axel rest his head back on the table as he cleaned up his arms, peeling off the bloodied jacket so it hung over the back of the chair. Once he was done, he turned off the kitchen light—something he rarely did because it was his night-time safety light—and switched on a dim lamp in the living room. He turned off the movie, then organized the couch so that Axel could lay his head and upper back on pillows.

The move to the couch was met with little resistance, and once Axel was settled Roxas cleaned up the yogurt and put his medical supplies back in the bathroom. The bloody towels were tossed on the bathroom floor next to his hamper and the bowl of red liquid was dumped down the sink.

Roxas took up residence on the floor, leaning his side against the couch near Axel’s head so he could watch him breathe while blocking out a bit more of the light. Axel had both eyes closed and was taking in sharp, short breaths, one arm loosely crossed over his chest while the other supported the ice pack against his face.

“Ax, what happened?” Roxas pressed.

“Bad shit, Rox. Sorry I came here.” He murmured, losing energy fast now that he was comfy.

Sleep would do him good.

“Wouldn’t want you to be anywhere else. Now tell me.”

Axel shifted his head, ever so slightly, but he still winced as more light graced his face. Roxas got up and turned off the lamp, leaving them in the dark except for the faint glow of streetlights below the apartment.

“It’s…long. Later, ‘kay?” Axel lifted his free hand, pinky out.

Roxas hooked his pinkie around, then grunted in surprise as Axel dragged Roxas’ hand with his own to hover over his heart.

“Promise.” Axel whispered.

Roxas rolled his eyes. Axel was always so dramatic.

“Okay.”

Axel didn’t let go of his hand, instead tangling their fingers together.

“Rox.”

“Hmm?”

Roxas shifted his shoulder more onto the couch so he wouldn’t lose feeling in his arm, leaning a bit more into Axel’s side. He wondered if any ribs were broken, but Axel didn’t react with any pain to the added weight. That was a relief—again, Axel and hospitals were a hopeless dream.

“Kiss me?” Axel asked, soft and vulnerable.

Different from the way he usually asked, all sultry with a purr. This version tugged at Roxas’ heartstrings instead of sending shivers down his spine.

“Really?” Was this necessary right now?

“Aw, take pity on a broken soul.” Axel whined in false dramatics.

Roxas huffed, glad Axel couldn’t see his eyes roll, “In your dreams.”

It was the wrong response, because Axel hummed happily and said in that seductive voice that’d been missing a moment ago, “You know it.”

A pause followed, then Axel pulled Roxas’ hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles.

“Please?”

“Ax, your brain’s scrambled up.” Roxas was reaching for excuses, he knew, but he needed an out.

He always needed an out.

“You know that’s not why I’m askin’.” Axel protested, bringing their hands to rest over his stomach.

Roxas wormed his hand free and stood. He fetched his bat from where he’d dropped it as well as a glass of water, and set both by the couch near Axel’s head.

“My bat’s here in case anyone comes in. And some water,” He said, adding, “need anything else?”

“Just you.”

Roxas didn’t know what to do with that so he didn’t respond. After a moment of debating, he fetched his sleeping bag from the hall closet and a pillow from his room. He scooted his coffee table against the wall by the window, then made himself comfortable on the floor with his head by Axel’s. This way he could easily grab the bat, not watch Axel sleep like some creepy vampire. Nope.

“We could just sleep in your bed, you know.” Axel commented from above.

Roxas shrugged. “Too late. Night, Ax.”

“Night, Roxas.”

Sleeping anywhere than his own bed was another anomaly, but he needed to wake easily if Axel’s condition worsened or if whoever had hurt Axel came looking for him. Roxas had been around long enough to know it was only a matter of time before they would hunt him down. It just hadn’t happened at Roxas’ house—yet. 


End file.
